Effects
by timydamonkey
Summary: Digital Devil Saga. As the Embryon propose an alliance to the Maribel, Gale struggles to understand the changes taking place in front of his eyes.


Effects:_ (by timydamonkey)_

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Digital Devil Saga; Atlus does. This is not for profit, and it is written purely for fun and writing practise.

Author's Note: So this fic is primarily trying to get into the head of somebody during Digital Devil Saga 1. I chose Gale, as he's aloof for the longest time. I wanted to keep him in character, and I wanted his narration to sound a little stilted, like his speech (hence why there are no contractions in the narrative). It's set fairly early on in the game. Feedback much appreciated! :)

In other news, I still suck at endings.

* * *

Gale is not sure he likes what is happening to the Junkyard.

His fellow members of the Embryon have changed. They are somehow more colourful than before, and it utterly baffles him. He knows his position; he is a tactician, first and foremost, and nobody has argued with his plans before. Serph, as their leader, has the right, but he has never spoken up in protest, and now the whole Tribe has.

Argilla and her sudden hesitance. Heat and his brashness, his talk of violence as if it is anything other than a necessity. Morals have no place here.

He barely recognises them, but they are affronted at any suggestion of a change, at a hint that they are strangers in familiar bodies. He wants to blame the girl – something seemed ethereal about her even _before _they had discovered she had demon taming abilities – but that, too, is illogical. Surely if that were the case, he and Cielo would be most affected as the ones who have had most direct contact with her.

Gale feels as hollow as normal, Cielo's voice is flat and he has not obtained that strange brightness that stood out among the lack of colour of the Junkyard. This strange phenomenon is not affecting them. He cannot complain; he does not want to lose his thinking ability, unhampered by emotion as it is.

He tries to ask Cielo for his opinion, but it does not really go to plan:

"Do you believe that the priorities of our Tribe are changing, although they are vehemently denying this?"

He feels uncomfortable when saying the words; purposeless conversation is not something the Embryon often engages him. He consoles himself that this is relevant, and their odds of survival throughout commandments of massacre lessen the moment morals come into the equation. Emotions, too – the Junkyard is unsuited to anything other than cold logic, and its people are foreign to any other concepts.

"Our priorities are the Karma Temple's new priorities," Cielo says, sounding the same as always, not as if they had nearly killed each other not too long ago.

That was not entirely true, Gale thinks. Argilla certainly did not seem to agree. He wonders if this further dissent in the ranks will lead to trouble for the Embryon when they could not afford it. It troubles him greatly.

"Perhaps that is right," he says to Cielo, and the words sound hollow, even to him.

* * *

Silence does not bother Gale; he likes the time to think, so his starting of another non-tactical conversation perturbs him somewhat. He is seeking knowledge outside of his own subject area, and it is nothing something he's ever had to do before.

"How did you awaken me?" he asks the girl with black hair, the last sight in the Junkyard before everything had inexplicably changed. He can remember the feeling of calm that washed over him as he heard her voice, as she got close to him without being in any sort of danger. It makes little sense, and it bothers him that he cannot provide an explanation for this.

"I don't know," she says. "It was just… it was instinct. It just happened, and it worked. That's all." This, he imagines, is her way of saying that she cannot remember how long she has been able to do such a thing, and that all she can offer is a word that means nothing to him.

"I do not comprehend," he offers in response.

"Instinct," she repeats, as if he had not heard her. He considers correcting her, but she starts speaking again before he gets a chance to. "Your Tribes… did anybody ever teach you to fight?"

Gale considers. He cannot remember such a thing happening. "No."

"Well," the girl offers, "that's a kind of instinct. Your ideas, I guess you could call that instinct too-"

"No," Gale interrupts. "That is tactical planning."

The girl laughs. "Maybe not, then."

He does not understand her response at all.

* * *

Gale still ponders that strategic meeting, where their plans fell to pieces.

Morals, his mind keeps coming back to. It does not even make any sense, as it is not a word that he understands. He suspects this means he does not have them, and he doubts other denizens of the Junkyard do, either. It is dangerous, and it would not be conductive for their Tribe to be slaughtered because of an inadequate plan. The thought sickens him.

It turns out that he is right. As he heads to the Maribel's base to try and aid the rest of the Embryon, leaving Cielo to watch their visitor, he suspects it's a foolish move, but there is something that compels him to go.

"That was loyalty," Sera says later. Gale does not say anything, but he does not think it was, not then.

He suspects it was logic that saved them, their original ruler: the Embryon can not afford to be divided, by their own differences of opinion or by the hands of enemies. His presence and knowledge will dramatically improve their chances of survival.

Though loyalty, he thinks, sounds better, as if he had already recognised their camaraderie, but was unable to recognise it. Unified in denial, like the rest of the Embryon.


End file.
